"Here we go," MACO Captain Strycker thought to himself as he stepped onto the transporter pad. Receiving a new assignment was always like getting a new start, with a clean slate. But this assignment would be different, new in a few different ways.

Previously he had been working as the S-1, or Chief of Personnel and Administration, for the security section on the starbase orbiting Earth. A glorified clerk, though he was an Ensign at the time. No matter how hard he applied himself to his duties, he just couldn't ever seem to do things right. It was not a good fit for him.

"Stand by to transport, Sir," said the Petty Officer operating the transporter. "USS North Carolina has acknowledged your name on their manifest." Captain Strycker held still as he was enveloped in a blue haze. The Petty Officer and the blue bulkhead of the starbase transporter room disappeared and were instantly replaced with the more modern look of the USS North Carolina's transporter room. Lit well enough, but the walls were grey paneling with black vertical support beams every two to three meters. And, of course, the panels at chest and eye level were mostly replaced with computer interfaces. Standing at the transporter control station was another a Chief Petty Officer, a man who looked like he was probably about the same age as Captain Strycker. "Welcome aboard, Sir," he greeted.

"Thank you," Captain Strycker replied as he stepped off the transporter pad and walked up to the computer interface that showed the layout of the ship. "Where are my quarters?"

"You will be staying here, Sir," the Chief Petty Officer pointed to the location on the ship layout indicating the deck and room number. It was still in the saucer section, but facing forward. Captain Strycker wanted to ensure he was located as close to the shuttle bays as possible. All the quarters surrounding the shuttle bays were occupied by the Marines, and rightly so. They needed to be able to mobilize and deploy out of the ship rapidly without hindrance. Captain Strycker's MACO Team would be located on the same deck as the shuttle bay, but on the opposite end of the saucer. That would work fine. "Do you need an escort to help you find it, Sir?"

"No thank you, I'll find it."

Walking down the almost unending maze of corridors and lifts to arrive at his room, Captain Strycker's memory reflected back on how he had volunteered to join the new MACO program Starfleet was standing up for the first time in recent memory. His previous career path, combined with the untimely deaths of his wife and two children in a shuttle accident prompted him to make a change to the direction he was going in life. He was put on an accelerated Starfleet Marine Corps training program to familiarize him with their unique combat styles, tactics, techniques, and rank structure. From the ranks of the Marines the MACO Trainees were selected. Once they passed the initial screening to ensure they had no bad marks on their records, criminal history, and basically to ensure they were physically, mentally and emotionally sound, they were tried and tested during MACO Assessment and Selection. Captain Strycker smiled remembering the agony he was put through to prove he had what it takes. It was a refining moment in his life, a moment when he learned what he was really made of, and how badly he wanted to be a MACO. He was also glad that part of his career was behind him now. After Assessment and Selection was over, the candidates were told whether or not they made the cut. Those who did went on to spend another two years progressing through a series of schools and programs training them on survival and avoiding capture in hostile and alien environments, language training, weapons and tactics, close quarters combat, deep reconnaissance, stealth insertions, insurgent and irregular warfare tactics, and surgical strikes and raids. The process took so long that all graduating MACO Team Leaders were Captains, or the equivalent of a Starfleet Lieutenant, when they took their first assignment.

"Ah, here it is," he said to himself. He pressed the access button on the control panel outside his quarters' door, and the distinct voice of the computer responded with "Please state your name, Rank, and assigned duty position. "

"Josiah Strycker, MACO Captain, MACO Team Leader." The door opened and he walked in. Setting his duffle bag down on the sofa in the living room, he looked to his right toward the sleeping area and restroom, then to his left toward the small dining area. A table with two chairs next to a replicator. Nice, very nice. Then he took in the view from the windows. He had seen Earth from above countless times on the starbase, but there was something about looking down on Mars from a starship. He was suddenly filled a sense of immense pride for where he was in life, and excitement for what the future may hold.